Wish Upon A Star
by Kaffee und Sahne
Summary: A drunken wish on a star lands Lovino back in the time of pirates, and when he runs into a familiar face with an unfamiliar personality, he'll start to question his own heart. Pirate!SpainxRomano. Rated for language, violence, and maybe mature situation
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

There were several things about himself that Lovino Vargas would rather not admit to, and being an obnoxious drunk was one of them. He hated how he so easily fell into the clutches of alcohol, as it only reminded him of that old bastard England and that perverted bastard France. That potato bastard Prussia was really bad too. Lovino shook the other, older, countries from his mind easily but cursed aloud, knowing that the task of forgetting about them was aided by the bottle of cold Italian wine, the good stuff, clutched in his hands. He took another swig and stumbled out onto the balcony of the penthouse apartment he shared with the tomato bastard Spain.

Lovino had been waiting since exactly nine thirty-four A.M. for Antonio Carriedo to return home, and it was now eleven-o-eight P.M. The Italian nation growled at the clock flashing at the top of the building across the street, shivering in the cold. It was always like the Spanish bastard to keep him waiting. He hiccuped and downed the rest of the wine; at that point he didn't care that some of the drink had dribbled down his chin and now stained his once perfectly white shirt. With another trip over his feet, Lovino gripped the top of the balcony railing, staring angrily out at nothing while his thoughts strayed back to his Spanish lover.

Sure he loved Antonio and all, but the guy was a total ditz. On more than one occasion, he'd slipped in the bathroom, broken glasses and plates, tripped over his shoelaces (and sometimes his own feet), burned himself on the stove, was totally oblivious to everything around him... it was a wonder he wasn't dead yet. Lovino scrunched his nose at the thought. Had Antonio ever been worth something more than the retard he was at the present moment? They were still nations, but surely Antonio hadn't gone through centuries as a complete idiot. The Italian sighed and stared up at the smog-coated sky, miraculously seeing a glowing dot in the navy blue sky. He waited for it to blink and move, sure it was an airplane, but when it made no such move, he hummed, amazed that he could see a star in this city. Wasn't there something Feliciano was always going on about, about seeing the first star in the sky and making a wish on it? It was ridiculous, but Lovino couldn't help but stare at the celestial phenomenon and hope that there was some way he could be assured that Spain wasn't a total ass-brain.

A deep drunken yawn wrenched itself from his chest and he set the empty wine bottle on the cement floor beneath him, too far gone to actually bother carrying it to the garbage can. When he had successfully shut the balcony door behind himself and wobbled into his and Antonio's bedroom, he immediately stripped himself of his clothes and fell down on top of the covers, bubbly sleep pulling him into dreams of pasta, Antonio, tomatoes, and Antonio covered in tomatoes. His dreams followed him until the next morning, when the sun began to shine down on him and the waves lapped at his bare feet.

* * *

_Holy EFF what am I doing? Don't worry, I'll have like two chapters of The Third Time out this week._

_I've noticed there isn't much, or anything really, of pirate!Spain, and since my Lovino has a bit of a Spain fetish, I decided to write this for her :'3 I love you, querido!_

_This won't be totally long, since I'm working on The Third Time still, and am currently writing out my USUK western, but I do hope you enjoy it!_

_Thank you very much for reading! Reviews are appreciated, not demanded, and flames will be used to stoke the fire of Mrs. Lovett's oven. I don't own Hetalia, and all copyright privileges, excluding the plot of this story, belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sun was painfully blinding behind Lovino's eyelids when he came to the next morning, and the air was crisp and clean, smelling gently of sea salt as he sighed. It was early, he could tell, probably around ten o'clock, and therefore too early for him to wake up. He groaned and tried to settle back into sleep, the sun starting to feel comfortable on his bare skin, but the growing sound of clanking jewelery provided a constant beat that prevented him from doing so, and he furrowed his eyebrows before trying to ignore it. It wasn't long, however, before a shadow fell over him and the clanking dimmed. With the sun blocked by the shadow, Lovino quickly started to feel cold. He pushed himself up onto his hands, which surprisingly sunk into soft white sand, and glared up at the creator of the shadow.

Wait a second...

Hadn't he fallen asleep at home? As far as he knew, they didn't live near any beaches, so what was he doing sleeping on one? His stomach sunk; had someone kidnapped him and dragged him off and dumped him hundreds of miles from home on some deserted strip of ocean? He panicked and crab-crawled away from the man who was standing before him, who was actually starting to smell very bad. Lovino stared up at him, noticing that he was rather ugly, with a horrendously dark tan and a scruffy black beard obscuring most of his face. He was dressed in dirty canvas slacks, shoved into the tops of low brown boots, and an equally dirty, what must have once been white, shirt and vest. The sound of the jewelry Lovino had heard apparently originated from the masses of beads and gold coins dangling from the sash around his waist. Lovino gulped at the frightening grin on the man's face, but couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Why was this guy dressed like a pirate?

"Oi, _Capitan_! 'e's alive!" Spanish! Albeit mussed by a corny accent, but Spanish nonetheless. Lovino shifted in his spot before the man, his nakedness making him uncomfortable for the first time in a while. At least he knew he was still in Spain.

"H-hey, where are we?" he asked in the man's language; the fact that he didn't know the answer to the question though was enough to embarrass him further, and he squeezed his legs shut, squirming at the feeling of the sand against his skin.

The pirate, if he honestly believed he was one, blinked in surprise and let out a short, spiking laugh. "Ye don't know? Well that'll be a problem, won' it? Haha! We're on a bitty island off of Portugal, no name since no one bothered with it. What brings the likes of ye here, boy? We dinnit see no one when we landed and yet ye show up at the crack o' dawn, passed out 'ere!"

Lovino squeaked. Portugal! He _had_ been kidnapped! Most likely by this pirate wannabe, but he had no proof yet. The man was calling for _Capitan_ again, but Lovino was going over scenarios in his head as he subconsciously brushed sand from his quickly tanning skin. He was miles from home, somehow probably not even in the same time period (he wouldn't doubt it, something like this had happened to England once, and they were nations, they didn't question anything), lost on a beach with a strange pirate. To top it all off, Lovino was naked and had no possessions that might link to his very existence should something happen to him. He shuddered at the thought and nibbled at his nails; he could very well die out here and he would never see anyone he knew ever again. He would leave behind Antonio, Feliciano, the cute girls in the city, Antonio, the baby turtles, and Antonio! He would never see them again! He groaned, burying his head in his hands.

A new voice had finally joined the pirate's. It was slightly musical, and vaguely familiar as Lovino thought back to his own time period and how he was worrying the ones he had left behind. Footsteps came up to him and paused. The lost Italian stopped his muttering to look up, and came face-to-face with the barrel of a flintlock pistol and the familiar emerald eyes of his Spanish lover.

"Mind telling me who you are, _querido_?"

Lovino's heart caught in his throat; he couldn't answer. "I..."

The pistol was cocked and shoved closer to his face, the green eyes behind it narrowing dangerously. "Speak."

"An... tonio..." With a visible shudder, Lovino fell back onto the sand and fainted, darkness swallowing him whole.

* * *

He awoke sometime later, discomfort immediately settling in as pain shot up his back. Blinking away the spots in his vision, he looked around himself and found that he was on the deck of a massive wooden ship, a whole colony of pirates scuttling about, mopping the flooring, polishing cannons and pistols, and helping a man in a long red coat navigate at the wheel. Lovino shifted to stand, but found that he was tied down, and a quick glance up told him that he was attached to the mast, which explained the pain in his back. Beyond the billowing white sails of the ship, the Jolly Roger flitting back and forth in the wind. It was decorated with red and gold, and a few confused musings later told Lovino that it was the Spanish flag. He gulped, turning his attention back to the man at the wheel, who was shouting orders in between glancing down at the sextant in his hand. He must have felt Lovino staring, the Italian thought, because he turned around and faced him, green eyes shimmering with mirth and an evil, uncharacteristic (to Lovino at least) grin plastered on his face. The captured man (well, if Feliciano could see him now...) gulped audibly.

This was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo watching him with all the fury of a pirate. Lovino couldn't help the blush that tinted his skin; he cared about Antonio a lot, and to see him with such a lustful gaze in his usually dopey eyes was enough to excite him. Lovino managed to tear his eyes away from his lover's past self before he could get too aroused, finally noticing that had been dressed in a loose white top and tan pants, not far from what the first pirate had been wearing but definitely cleaner. The sound of boots nearing him caused him to look up. He flushed once more as Antonio shoved the sextant into the hands of a nearby crew member and drew a sword that Lovino just realized had been hanging at his hip. The tip of the blade was at automatically at the Italian's throat.

"You're quite a burden on me and my men," Antonio started. His voice was the same as what Lovino was used to, but he could sense the danger lingering in the undertones. "Now," he said, pressing his sword closer to the smaller man's neck, "Tell me your name and what you were doing on that island. I won't take no for an answer, and if you proceed to lie to me, you will be killed or thrown overboard. It depends on what my men are feeling like." The Spaniard smiled, that same stupid smile, and stood waiting.

Lovino didn't know what to say. He didn't know why he was here, let alone why Antonio had even taken him onto the ship. "I... I don't know," he finally answered, feeling a painful twinge in his heart when Antonio's expression turned to stone, "All I know is what that guy told me. Why'd you take me anyway if I'm such a burden? Coulda left me on that island. Wouldn't have mattered." Lovino would have yelled at the man's stupidity, but judging from Antonio's persona and the fact that he had a sword at his throat, he would surely have died at the flick of a wrist; he was still Italian, and he still feared fighting when weapons came into play.

Antonio hummed, as if considering Lovino's answer, and pulled his sword away, sheathing it clumsily. Lovino raised an eyebrow at the action, wondering how the man fought if he couldn't sheath a sword properly. The musical Spanish voice began speaking again, but it had lost some of the underlying anger of before. "I don't know either, _querido_. My men thought it would be fun to mess with you, so they brought you along. I don't interfere with the affairs of my crew." Antonio was still watching him, actually glancing him up and down in a way that made Lovino shift uncomfortably, while the crew had started to gather around them. The pirate who had taken over at the helm was looking down at the action every now and then.

"Aye, _Capitan_," a man to the right of Antonio piped in. The captain regarded him with a low gaze. "Sanchez thought you could use a cabin boy, since none o' us are small enough to sit in the crow's nest anymore."

Antonio put his thumb and forefinger to his chin. "That's true..."

Lovino looked on, between the man who had spoken and his lover, with growing dread in his stomach. Were they going to force him to be the cabin boy? Lovino had never worked a day in his life, even when he was a literal maid for Antonio in his younger days. His hands were callus-free, as were his feet, and he lived on the three- or four-hour _siestas_ he took every day. He gulped audibly when Antonio gestured and called for a man to bring him an extra pair of boots. When they were brought to him, he tossed them at Lovino's feet. The Italian's ropes were cut.

"Put those on, grab a mop, and start cleaning. Your hands better be bleeding by sundown," the leading Spaniard demanded. He smiled and turned back up to the helm.

Lovino did as he was told under the watchful and frightening stares of Antonio's crew.

* * *

The day passed uneventfully, with Lovino running the near-dry mop back and forth across the deck with lazy movements. As promised, blisters had formed on his palms, and when he itched them in irritation, they popped and bled on his hands; it took five minutes of begging to get them cleaned and bandaged by the ship's doctor. When the sun set, the crew disappeared into the depths of the ship, but Lovino couldn't bring himself to sit in the galley with the stench he had not gotten used to. Instead, he found refuge leaning against a cannon he had been forced to polish earlier in the day and stared up at the sky.

He could see more stars here than he had the night before, and it was the only comfort he had. As he thought back to nearly a day ago, Lovino found he was remembering more about it. He recalled waiting for Antonio to come home, drowning himself in wine, and looking up at the sky like he was now. Lovino groaned, trying to clench his hands in anger but only irritating the blisters. He could also vaguely remember the wish he had made on the star he had seen, something about Antonio not being stupid.

Well, that could have been incentive for sending him to this time period. If he remembered correctly, an incident similar to this had happened with England, only he'd been sent to an alternate dimension and came back dressed as what he had called the Britannian Angel. It had bewildered the rest of the nations, but China had thought nothing of it and blew it off as a magical occurrence, one of which was not rare. Lovino learned early on in his life to not doubt China, as he was the only one of the nations who was still at least somewhat grounded with sanity, so applying the logic of the incident with England to Lovino's situation now could very well make this whole thing make sense.

"Argh!" Lovino growled and scratched his scalp with his unwounded fingers in anger. Now he knew at least how he had gotten here, but all he wanted was to go home, take a nap, eat some tomatoes, and see his real Antonio, not the bastard he had run into in this time period. He grumbled again; as much as he hated how stupid the new Antonio was, Lovino was honestly starting to miss him, not that he would admit that to anyone, _especially_ the Spanish bastard himself.

At the growing familiarity of boots against the deck getting closer to his location, Lovino pushed himself away from the cannon with his elbows, hands shaking in their discomfort. "What do I need to do now, good sir?" he commented sarcastically, looking up at the pirate that had joined him in his spot on the floor. Lovino blinked in confusion as a thick slice of stiff bread was held out to him. "Uh..."

"Well, are ye hungry or not, lad?" the pirate said. Lovino noticed it was the one that had first woken him that morning on the island, if the beard that none of the other men had was anything to go by. The man shook the piece of bread as if tempting a pigeon, and the tired Italian grabbed it, biting into it; the food wasn't as hard to chew as the stiffness told.

"Thanks..." muttered Lovino when he had devoured half of the bread. The pirate was laughing at him around his own piece of bread, causing Lovino to flush in embarrassment. "W-what are you laughing at?"

The pirate finished chuckling and held out a hand. "M'name's Sanchez."

Lovino raised an eyebrow, then glared in familiarity. "You're the one who wanted me as cabin boy!"

"Aye."

"You're the one who got me stuck on this ship for the next who knows how long! Argh!" Lovino roared in anger and pushed the man's hand away.

Sanchez huffed and polished off his bread. "Well, if ye want my opinion, it's better'an the captain leaving ye on that godforsaken island, or tossin' ya. Ye helped us a bit today, boy," he explained as if it were the most obvious information in the world. Lovino's cheeks reddened more at the truth of the man's words.

"Y-yeah, well, I wasn't exactly made for hard labor," the younger mumbled, glaring now at the wooden deck.

He could almost hear Sanchez raise his own scruffy eyebrow. "Ye mean ya haven't worked before? Good God, lad! Where have ye been!"

Lovino's heart ached at the statement, being reminded of how he had completely abandoned his own time period against his will. He turned back to the pirate beside him. "Do you know about An... the captain? What he is?"

Sanchez hummed, staring up at the night sky as he thought. "I know 'e's a pirate, one o' the best on the seas. And..." He looked back down, leveling Lovino with a hard stare. "An' I know sommat else, too, but I'm the only one who knows, same wif the rest o' the bad captains out there."

"You know he's a nation?" Lovino said without thinking. If he remembered anything from the exclamations at the world conferences, he knew that England and Prussia had both ruled the seas at some point in time. He hadn't known about Antonio, but now that he was a first-hand victim of the Spaniard's cruelty, he was ready to add him to the list. He wasn't ready, however, for the deadly glare that Sanchez was sending his way.

"Who are ye, boy? Ain't no one 'cept me on board this crew that knows 'bout the captain. How do ye know that?" His voice was low, the r's in his speech rolling deeply. Lovino felt sweat trickle down his brow.

"I-I just know. But if you really are the only one-"

"I am!" the pirate interrupted, "Now, tell me, boy! How ye know!"

Lovino hesitated for a moment. "I-it's because I'm a nation, too," he finally admitted. He didn't know what the consequence of telling this man who he was, but since he hadn't asked what Lovino was talking about, the Italian could only assume he was telling the truth.

Sanchez's eyes widened slightly before he laughed again, all former anger dissipated. "Really now! Haha! Well that's a right coincidence, boy! Will ya tell me what country ye are? Or issat top secret?" He winked and nudged Lovino with his elbow, causing the boy to inch away slightly.

"I dunno," the Italian said, taking another bite of his bread before speaking again, "I really don't know what will happen if I tell anyone else. For all I know I could have torn a hole in the space-time continuum or something by just telling you." At the confused look on Sanchez's face, Lovino couldn't help but smile a bit. "Never mind."

The pirate shook his head and stood, staring up at the sky. "Y'are sommat else, boy. I just have a piece of advice for ye regardin' the captain, hear?" Lovino nodded, finishing the bit of bread he had left. "Don' get on his bad side. _La Reina_ has ne'er left a survivor, and ye're too special to be ended by th' captain. Hear me, boy?"

Lovino nodded again, swallowing thickly. "What's _La Reina_?"

Sanchez hummed, his expression turning slightly soft as he crossed his arms. "It's best ye see fer yourself, boy. Might teach ya more 'bout Capitan, so I don' want to spoil the surprise." He chuckled to himself again and waved. "Git yerself some sleep, boy! We rise at dawn!" With that, the pirate wandered down the deck and disappeared into the lower cabins.

Lovino felt the bread in his stomach thicken uncomfortably as he stared after the man, who he now knew was the first mate Sanchez. He seemed like a trustworthy enough guy, but dealing with pirates, Lovino knew, even from stories like England's _Peter Pan_ and America's Caribbean movies, was never a thing one should put their faith in. The Italian sighed and fell back onto the deck, desperate for sleep. He would think more on his situation in the morning.

* * *

_WOO. That took quite a bit out of me lol. I think my fan needs to be turned up, 'cause it's getting hot in here. XD_

_Sorry for making Toni a total bastard, but he doesn't know Lovi yet. NEVER FEAR, I won't let my fellow fangirls down!_

_Thank you for reading~ -blows kisses-_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The sky was barely purple when Lovino was kicked awake the next morning. He felt cold, but pushed the thought away as he stared, shivering, up at Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. At this distance, Lovino finally noticed that the man's skin was dark, but not dirty, and his hair was not as short as the Spain in Lovino's own time period; it spilled in tiny waves over his shoulder, tied with a green ribbon, and caught occasionally on the gold buttons of his coat. Lovino felt himself flush as he stared back into thin emerald eyes, and was grateful for the darkness of the morning to hide it. Or, as least as well as the morning could hide it, as Antonio's eyes narrowed even more and the ghost of a smile flashed across his features.

"Good morning, _querido_."

Lovino swallowed thickly. "G-good mo-"

"I request your presence in my cabin at noon. Do not be late, or there _will_ be consequences." Antonio turned away from the shaking Italian and disappeared into what Lovino had learned was the captain's cabin, the double doors opening onto the deck.

This Antonio was the complete opposite of what Lovino had ever known. When he'd first been employed to Spain's house, he'd been young, but even then he knew that Antonio had no idea what he was doing and cried and complained about how lazy Lovino was. But now, faced with this... monster of a pirate, a ghost of what Spain used to be, Lovino was scared. It was in his nature to fear what he couldn't fight, but never had he been at such odds with himself. Antonio was such a... bastard in the past that Lovino didn't know how to take it.

It was a long moment before the Italian noticed there was someone else standing before him, and he glanced up once more to see Sanchez smirking down at him. Lovino narrowed his eyes.

"What are you staring at?"

Sanchez shrugged his shoulders, the beads in his long hair clinking together at the movement. "Jus' seeing ya swoon after my captain, is all. 'S'alright, a lot o' us about here are like that."

Lovino felt his cheeks heat up considerably and he stood as fast as his sore legs would let him. "I-it's not like that! I-it's just..." He felt the strength in his voice, as well, die down and he growled in frustration. "S-shut up and tell me what to do so I can get it over with and sleep!"

Sanchez barked out his laughter, surprisingly white teeth shining in the light as the sun finally broke the horizon. "Fine, fine, boy! Come on, follow me, I'll take ye down to th' store room."

* * *

If Lovino hated staying on the ship (which name he'd found was _Vieques_) and mopping the deck, he doubly hated being shoved into the storage room in the hull, the only light being several candles and the stench of rotting wood permeating the stiff air. He had been commanded to organize the crates of alcohol and supplies that had accumulated in the room; the place wasn't dirty, but Lovino was sure that the only reason it was disorganized was because Antonio hadn't bothered to overlook the work when his crew moved the boxes into the room. At the current moment, Lovino was resting against a particularly heavy box he had moved, sweat staining his brow as he slept. It wouldn't have been his ideal choice for a place to take his siesta, but it was good enough without having to brave falling asleep in front of the rest of the crew; who knew what they would have done to him in his sleep.

Suddenly, there were heavy footsteps outside the room, and Lovino quickly woke himself up, the vibrations mixed with the rocking of the ship rousing him. The door was pushed open and an unfamiliar pirate stepped in, taking a quick glance around the dark room. Lovino stood up.

"Th' captain wants to see ya, cabin boy," he said in a gruff, dumb-sounding voice. Lovino felt something tighten in his stomach as he followed the man out, mostly against his will. In all honesty, the Italian captive had forgotten that Antonio had requested his presence at the crack of dawn, so he was totally unprepared for actually going to see the other man. By the time he and the pirate had reached the top deck, Lovino was sure that his heart would jump out of his throat; all he could hear was the organ beating loudly in his chest, blood rushing through his ears with each sporadic pump. The pirate knocked on the door and the faint admittance of Antonio's voice allowed them entrance. Lovino was shoved over the threshold immediately.

The interior of the captain's cabin was not as fancy as the Italian captive was expecting. It was decorated with oak-paneled walls, much like the rest of the _Vieques_, with a matching crimson-clothed bed, wardrobe, and desk. The heavy wood of the desk was occupied by mounds of parchment, quills, and various navigation devices. Lovino noticed Sanchez, his clothes looking slightly cleaner than the day before, leaning against the window that spanned the back of the ship above the captain's desk. The first mate nodded at the Italian, Lovino reciprocating, before he pushed himself off the wall.

"I'll see to th' rest o' the organizin', Capitan," Sanchez said. He bowed his head and followed the pirate that had led Lovino to the cabin back out on deck. The slamming of a door had never sounded so ominous.

Lovino turned back to the rest of the cabin, finally taking notice of Antonio. The Spaniard was lounging in the chair before his desk, legs crosses eloquently and slim fingers toying with a mathematical compass. The captain's coat and hat had been discarded, and Lovino mentally slapped himself for staring at the triangle of skin that was exposed beneath Antonio's neck.

"What is your name?"

Deep-throated Spanish ripped Lovino from his daze. "Wha...?"

"What is your name?" Antonio repeated, a fraction slower than the first time as if he were speaking to a child. He had dropped the compass and was watching Lovino with intense green eyes.

The younger nation suddenly felt very self-conscious. "Um... Lovino," he answered, praying to God that admitting the truth wouldn't change the past in some way.

"Hm." Long, slender legs uncrossed as Antonio pushed himself to his feet and walked toward Lovino. The Italian took a step backward. "Where do you come from, Lovino?"

A pang of fear traveled through the smaller male. If he told Antonio where he was from, would he take him back? The Spaniard appeared to be generations wiser in this time period, would he be able to piece together the fact that Lovino represented Italy and try to conquer him? "I... I don't remember." Lovino was such a horrible liar...

"I don't believe you," commented Antonio. Within a fraction of a second, in which Lovino had no idea what happened, the pirate captain had his Italian cabin boy by the hair, pressing him forcefully against the wall. Lovino yelped in pain, then gasped as Antonio's adjusting fingers stroked the stray curl that protruded defiantly from his head. He bit back a moan as the familiar digits touched his strange erogenous zone.

"Ah... n-not there!"

There was a pause. Lovino, who had squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to ward off the pleasure building in his loins, felt a hand press against the wall beside his head. Between that limb and the one still gripping his hair painfully, Lovino was trapped.

"Where do you come from, Lovino?" The words were repeated at the same volume as before, but Lovino could easily pick out the danger lurking beneath them.

"I c-can't tell you! I don't know what'll happen!" The younger man groaned and shifted his legs around his growing arousal; Antonio was holding him tighter.

"What do you mean?"

If anything had stayed from this Antonio to the other Antonio, it was the Spaniard's incessant questions. The brunette had always been curious, for as long as Lovino had known him, but the Italian nation had never thought interrogation was in the man's blood.

"I-I'm not from here...," Lovino started, relaxing slightly when the other's hand stopped moving in his hair, "I don't know what will happen to me i-if I tell you where I'm from..." He gasped as Antonio released his hold, only for the hand to be moved to his chin where a thumb and forefinger forced him to look up at the green-eyed man.

Antonio was silent for a moment, as if he were processing what Lovino had said. The younger, whose hazel eyes were clouded ever so slightly, swallowed loudly to calm his raging heart. The other Antonio, back in the other time period, knew every way to turn Lovino on, and yet never had he been able to create such an arousing situation as this. Lovino mentally slapped himself again; if being abused like this meant such strong sensations, he was turning into a masochist.

"You are a nation," said Antonio, suddenly enough for Lovino to glance at him in confusion, "You do not want to tell me where you are from, because I may conquer you. I own half of the New World at present moment, I don't blame you for being scared. I am, however, very curious as to what you represent. You speak Spanish, and yet I can tell that you are not of Spanish decent. Portugal is a... _dear _friend of mine, so it is obvious that you are not from there, either. Now," he paused again, tilting his head to the side and smiling as if trying to be cute, "will you tell me, or will I have to endure until I may make you mine?"

Lovino bit his lip, shaking his own head to indicate that he would not be sharing that information just yet. Deep down, he was hoping that he would be able to return home by the time Antonio got a bit too antsy and forced the answer out of him. At the moment, though, Lovino was more distracted by the fact that Antonio had figured out he was a nation in the first place. Well, his first assumptions seemed to be correct, though now that he thought about it he assumed that the nations could pretty much sense when another was around. That was what had happened with China and Japan, if he remembered that story correctly (he didn't remember much, seeing as how he was too caught up with being proud of Japan for telling off China the moment they met; it was nice to see that others had the decency to be rude sometimes). Lovino himself was so used to the feeling of being around other nations, though, that he rarely registered the sensation of a new nation.

A sudden change in temperature brought Lovino back to the person at hand, almost literally. Antonio was eyeing him strangely, using a finger to comb mussed brown hair off of Lovino's forehead. The shudder that went down the Italian's spine told him that the sudden chill was from the gesture.

"W-what are you…"

Antonio's sharp green eyes bore into Lovino's hazel ones. "You remind me of someone I knew, a long time ago."

The Italian tilted his head in confusion slightly, brow furrowing and a shudder going through him as Antonio's fingers brushed his erogenous zone once more.

He flushed slightly when Antonio let out a short laugh and pushed away from him, going back to his desk. "It's nothing. Go on, Sanchez will give you something to do. He has taken a shining to you. Don't let him give you anything that will agitate your wounds further." Lovino faintly noticed Antonio nodding towards his bandaged hands and flushed; the man cared about his blisters, if only a little bit. "I care for my crewmen; I do not want them to be hurt meaninglessly. Go on, Lovino."

With a distant upturning of lips, Antonio dismissed him, and Lovino wasted no time in leaving the cabin. He hid himself between a pair of cannons, glanced over his bandages, and tried not to think about the tremendous beating in his heart that he had only felt one time in his life.

* * *

_OHHHHH MY GOD. That was really hard to write._

_And because I have gotten a few comments on it, any timelines or details that don't match up, have a meaning, so pleeeeeease don't get annoyed with me! I promise everything will be explained!_

_Arthur comes in... chapter after next, methinks._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Several days passed by on the _Viques_. Lovino saw Antonio around the ship more and more often, usually noticing the man staring at him from odd corners of the ship. It was unsettling, to say the least. He had no idea what Antonio was planning, whether he had a plan in the first place, but considering the man was less thick than he was in the future, Lovino was sure that Antonio was scheming to figure out which nation the younger one represented behind his back. Lovino scowled, and then looked away as he noticed the Spanish pirate break out into subdued laughter.

"Lovi, keep scrubbing!" said Italian's future lover yelled from his post at the wheel. Lovino's frown darkened at the man's nickname for him (courtesy of Sanchez, who, on a drunken night a couple days prior, had neglected the final syllable of the young nation's name), but did as he was told, increasing his upper body strength as he ran a dirty rag along the side railing of the ship.

"Yeah yeah, you bastard, I'm scrubbing…" Of course, every insult that Lovino threw out about the Spaniard was under hushed tones, knowing that _La Reina_, whatever it was, was waiting for him to make a huge mistake. The smaller brunette was partially wishing for something big to happen so that he could see the secret weapon in action, because the warning Sanchez had given him on his first night had been haunting him ever since.

The first few days on the _Viques_, after receiving Sanchez's warning, had been filled with paranoia for the Italian captive. Granted he knew that, even under the circumstances, Antonio wouldn't hurt a fly unless given the incentive, he still feared for his life. This situation of living on scraps and working from dawn until dusk was nothing that Lovino was used to, or had even experienced before, even through his rough first centuries as a nation. Now that he was faced with the harsh reality of what others had been forced to live through, the representation of Southern Italy was sure that once he got home, he would never take for granted the easy life that he had.

A whistle brought Lovino out of his thoughts, and he glanced back up to see Sanchez, at his post beside Antonio, waving for him to come over. The Italian grumbled but obliged. He dropped his rag and made his way up to the helm. Sanchez immediately threw a telescope and map down to him.

"Get up into the crow's nest, boy! We'll be pulling into port in a few hours, we need ya to navigate us through the reef," the first mate explained, gesturing up to the wooden box atop the mast. Lovino groaned, but let out a 'Yeah, yeah, whatever' before shoving the map and telescope into his pocket, gripping the mast, and pulling himself up.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

By the time twilight lit the skies, the _Viques _had pulled into the port that Lovino had thought only existed in fairy tales, Tortuga. Lovino was exhausted, not having expected that the reef in question was thick and only visible beneath the water. The task set upon the Italian had been deliberately given to him, the rest of the crew (and Antonio, the bastard) knowing that it was difficult. Never had Lovino been met with a task so confusing.

Nevertheless, Lovino was grateful that he was back on solid ground. His equilibrium had been set off by the constant rocking of the ship, so he stumbled when Sanchez pushed him across the plank connecting the ship to the dock.

"Yer ta stay with me, boy," the elder Spanish man explained, gesturing at the rowdy crowds of the town of Tortuga, "We'll be keepin' the captain company. 'E needs to do some business with a friend o' his. We're peace-keepers, ya hear?" As he said this, Sanchez shoved a pistol into Lovino's hand and gave him a pointed look. The Italian immediately knew what he was implying.

"Pirates. I get it. Always have the strangest ways of 'keeping the peace,'" he commented, returning Sanchez's smirk with one of his own. The scruffier of the two laughed and patted the young man on the back as he pocketed the pistol, then led him down the wharf.

* * *

About an hour after it was completely dark, according to Lovino's inner clock, he and Sanchez met back up with three or four other men from the crew. They were waiting on the captain, and Lovino knew it would take a while for the Spaniard to actually show, no matter how different he was. The Italian and the other men stood outside of a lively bar, the worn sign reading _Miel de Abeja_, for another hour or so before Antonio finally decided to show up, a soft grin adorning his features in the light of the pub.

"Shall we? Our friends must be getting impatient," he said, nodding in greeting to the six others. Lovino fought not to roll his eyes, but the pirate captain didn't miss the annoyed exhale of air and paused. Ring-clad fingers spun around to grab the captive Italian's collar, and Lovino instantly regretted his action, mentally slapping himself for he knew being irritated with Antonio was second nature to him, especially after being in a romantic relationship with the man for several decades. "You have something to say, _querido_?"

In the lamplight, Lovino could see the bloodlust lingering beneath emerald irises and shook his head. "No, _Capitan_."

"_Bien_." Antonio released him and smiled gently, as if he hadn't come centimeters away from endangering Lovino's life.

The crew followed their captain into the bar. The thick stench of sweat, vomit, and alcohol hit Lovino's nose like a wave and he coughed into his hand, squinting his eyes in the smoke-filled air. He felt someone pat him on the back and looked up to see Sanchez with a handkerchief; he accepted it gratefully.

"_Miel de Abeja_ does that to newcomers, lad," he said, sniffling and spitting into an obscure corner of the room. He hit his hand against Lovino's back again to prod him in the direction that Antonio was leading his posse, through the room and up the stairs at the back. "Keep close, keep quiet," the man said in the younger's ear.

Lovino didn't need to be told twice as he followed the others into a room at the end of the hall. The space was dark, lit only by a lamp at the center of the small table that sat in the middle of the room. There were other occupants, but they hid in the shadows. Lovino followed their example with the rest of the crew as the captain sat at the side of the table closest to the door; the Italian could feel the handle of the door digging into his back.

"You're late, Antonio."

Lovino bit back a gasp at the familiar voice; it was one he heard at every world conference, for the speaker always had something to say, but to hear it filled with a contempt that wasn't even present in the future was unnerving.

"Ah, _amigo_, don't be such a downer! I was simply enjoying the beauty of the night!" Antonio let out a laugh and leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head. His 'friend' didn't seem so relaxed, and leaned forward out of the shadows of the room.

"We both know you were simply stalling, do not lie to me, _amigo_."

"Arthur, Arthur, Arthur! When will you learn to pull that stick out of your ass, hm?" The Spaniard's tone was filled with discreet scorn as he spoke, and the country of England scoffed, a dim red filling his cheeks. Arms crossed deftly over a navy blue captain's coat.

"Shut up, dolt. We came here to discuss the conditions of our status."

Antonio waved a hand in the air. "Yes, yes, let's get on with it." He leaned his cheek on his fist as if he were tired, and Arthur rolled his eyes before gesturing to a man that stood behind him. The pirate brought forward a roll of parchment, an inkwell, and a long, elaborate quill. Lovino noticed from his awkward angle one of his Spanish lover's eyebrows quirk in amusement. He chuckled.

Arthur paused, quill hovering over the inkwell, and then turned in Lovino's direction. The Italian swallowed thickly. "Something amuse you, boy?"

If the danger in Antonio's eyes was enough to halt Lovino in his tracks, the death threat lingering in Arthur's similar green ones was enough to make him wet himself. He swallowed again then looked away when Arthur stood and took a step toward him; he would not be caught staring at the lethal-looking sword dangling from England's hip. "No, s-sir…" If it would spare his life, he would say anything.

However, it didn't seem to appease the other captain, and his eye narrowed as he took another step closer. "Boy, I'm warning you, if you mock me, you-"

"He'll what, Arthur?"

Antonio was too fast for Lovino's liking. The man had stood in the midst of the tension, and was holding a mass of steel between Arthur and Lovino. The Italian stared at the halberd with wide hazel eyes, taking in the intricate carvings and crimson decorations; the thing was gigantic, too, with a span nearly as wide as Lovino's torso was tall. He hadn't noticed the weapon before, so where had Antonio procured it from.

Arthur was staring at the weapon as well, though with less surprise and more annoyance. Harsh green eyes glanced past the halberd at Lovino, and then narrowed. After a moment's deliberation, Antonio watching Arthur, Arthur watching Lovino, and Lovino watching the pirate back, the eldest nation broke out into a fit of crazed laughter.

"Ha! Oh, this is rich, Antonio! How come you are not flaunting your prey, my friend?" Arthur laughed once more, then mockingly wiped a tear from his eye. He stole an amused glance at Antonio when the Spaniard said nothing. Even Lovino could see the confusion on his face. "Oh, please, don't tell me you don't know that you are harbouring one of the most protected people in the world, Antonio."

"What…?" Lovino surprised himself by being the one to speak first, but he was as confused as his future lover was.

"Southern Italy, right within your grasp and you don't even know it? Pathetic," Arthur finished. A time span of two seconds passed and Lovino felt himself being slammed into the chair that Antonio had just occupied. A rough, calloused hand gripped his chin, forcing him to look up into England's face as the man twisted his head back and forth; he gripped the arms of the chair, glancing between his captor and… other captor. Well, he was in a predicament, wasn't he? Antonio stood by with caution, the halberd dangling at his side. Lovino had noticed the fear in Arthur's eyes when the weapon had been brandished, so maybe…

"What are you doing, Arthur?" Antonio said from his place to the side. The frightened Italian finally spotted a speckling of red across the man's cheeks, and felt something pool in his stomach; he knew that look all too well, for it was the one that Antonio gave him whenever he did something 'cute' or amazed him in some way, and it usually ended in a long and _very_ hot night.

"I'm inspecting him, git. Men, leave. Antonio, I suggest you do the same." The pirates that had been lingering in the shadows emerged and left the room, leaving the door open for Antonio's crew to follow. Sanchez sent a worried look to his Spanish captain before he was given a nod and closed the door behind him.

When the hall was silent again, Lovino decided it was safe, and he pushed Arthur's hand away, growling. "How the fuck do you know who I am?"

Arthur huffed and placed his hands on his hips. "Between the sense that there was another nation around and the fact that you look exactly like Rome did in his younger days, I would say that that's not a difficult question," he explained. His eyes traveled to Antonio, Lovino's following, to see that the man was staring at the floor, a forlorn expression on his face. "And to think that you of all people have him under your control." Arthur scoffed, and a fraction of a second later the halberd was at his neck again.

"Shut up, Arthur. Lovi, get out of here."

Lovino stared between the two captains, confused. "Why?"

"Get out!" Antonio's eyes were lit with a fire that the Italian had never seen, and while it didn't seem to faze England, Lovino was scared, and finally did as he was told, rushing to the door. "Find Sanchez and tell him that we're leaving."

The words were spoken in Spanish, but there seemed to be no language barrier when Arthur cackled loudly. "Do you think you can make it out with him? Do you expect to keep him for yourself, Antonio? It won't work! My men are already gathered, they have been since they left this room!"

Something flashed in Antonio's eyes, but Lovino's inspection of his future lover was cut short when a shot rang out in the room and the lamp was extinguished.

"Lovi, go!"

* * *

_Mmmmmmmmmm please forgive me for this being so late! My dad got pissed at me and locked his computer, where all my updates were;;... BUT I have this! Yaaay!_

_Sad news, guys! There might be like two or three more chapters of this XD I told you it would be short._

_I hope you liked this chapter! owo;; I have a thing for pirate!Iggy, too. -heartsheartshearts-_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Lovino bolted from the pub and made his way back down the main road toward the docks, his throat burning and his head reeling. The smoke hadn't bothered him when he had first stumbled down the stairs in _Miel de Abeja_, but now that he was heaving in fresh air he could hardly see straight. Though his own situation was far from his thoughts…

Was Antonio alright? Had he gotten out of the meeting room safely? Were England's men following? Were they going to hurt Antonio? What was going to happen to the ship? A million thoughts ran through Lovino's head and they pushed salty tears from the corners of his eyes. Damn him for being secretively sensitive!

The lights from the piers and ships, the moonlight shimmering from above and across the ocean's horizon, were soon within the frightened Italian's sight, and he was desperately grateful to see Sanchez and the other men standing at the edge of the wharf.

"Sanchez!" Lovino called. Said first mate twirled around at his name, just as Lovino slammed into his chest, holding him tightly.

"Woah, boy! What's gotten into ya?" The Spaniard held the other back at arm's length, taking in Lovino's disheveled appearance.

"E-england, he attacked Antonio! H-he told me to run, to get you guys ready so we could escape!" Lovino heaved a breath and shook his head. He braved a glance over his shoulder in the direction of _Miel de Abeja_.

Sanchez's expression hardened immediately, as if he knew what was going on from the smaller man's vague description of what had happened between the two pirate captains. "Lovi, I want ye to get on the ship, tell everyone we're high-tailin' it outta here. Alright, boy? Can ye do that?"

Lovino hesitated. "I-I don't want to leave you guys alone. W-what if something terrible happens to him? Sanchez!" The first mate was surprised to see the sorrowful tears build up again.

"He'll be fine. _Capitan_ is smart, strong. He has _La Reina_ as well. Now go, Lovino!"

The Italian was shoved in the direction of the docks, gaining the attention of the rest of the crew that had been with Sanchez. He was ushered onto the ship within moments, and the dreadful game of waiting began.

* * *

Hours seemed to pass as Lovino watched from a cannon window in the bowels of the ship. His tears had long since dried, and now fear was kicking in once more, a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. There had been no word of Spain, Antonio, or Sanchez and the rest of the crew. The ones that had stayed behind were running around on deck, readying the _Vieques_ for a fast launch as soon as everyone had returned. Lovino could hear them shouting orders to each other, tossing ropes here and there and rolling barrels of gunpowder. It was doing nothing to distract him.

In the few days that Lovino had been stuck in this time period, for some reason, he found his heart falling terribly deeper for Antonio's other half. Often he would daydream about what life would be like if the Spaniard had retained that bit of him, or at least if he showed that bit of himself. Lovino highly doubted that such a tremendous part of Antonio's life had simply… disappeared.

In a fit of frustration, Lovino pushed away from the window and kicked at a pile of cannonballs. He cursed colorfully at the pain that resonated in his foot, then sighed. This was too much for him to handle. He missed his siestas and three full meals a day, with plenty of tomatoes. The life of a pirate was not for him.

Just as he was about to return to the window, the wood panel slammed shut as the ship lurched forward and out of the harbor of Tortuga. He jumped in surprise at the loud clack of wood against wood.

"What…?"

Then, voices floated down to him, and it sounded deathly serious. For a moment Lovino wondered why he hadn't heard them before, but he pushed the thought aside as he started to make his way back up to the top deck. The pattering sounds of boots against the deck were more frenzied than before. Lovino began to fear the worst.

* * *

The sight of the blood staining the deck nearly forced the young Italian's stomach to lurch from his throat. Sanchez tried desperately to push Lovino away from their captain's body, which was being tended to by the ship's doctor, but the smaller man was adamant and stood his ground a good two yards away from where a pair of sterilized tongs were being buried in Antonio's chest, mere inches from the organ that kept him alive.

"Antonio…"

The Spaniard's green eyes were glazed over as he stared at Lovino from his limited field of vision. Lovino could care less that he was crying his heart out, despite the fact that this Antonio didn't harbor the same feelings for him. Antonio's eyes squeezed shut, his teeth clenching, when the tongs got a hold of the bullet buried within his chest.

"Count o' three, _Capitan_."

The wounded man nodded, and the tongs ripped out of him once more, sending a mass of matter, blood, and metal flying across the deck. Lovino covered his ears for the scream of pain and his tears wouldn't stop. He barely recognized Sanchez pulling him aside as Antonio's wound was covered and his body dragged unceremoniously towards his cabin.

"Sanchez, Sanchez I can't take it…" he murmured, the first mate grunting in reply when he dropped him against a barrel.

"I know, boy, I know…"

* * *

It was most likely around three in the morning that Lovino awoke from his restless sleep. He realized that he was still on deck, if the goose-bumps adorning his skin were any indication to how cold he was. Glancing around, he also took in the fact that Sanchez was asleep beside him, and a group of men were gathered around a lantern on the other side of the ship. Lovino turned toward the doors that lead to Antonio's cabin and saw the ship's doctor passed out beside them, his bag or instruments held tightly against his body; he was also curled up from the cold.

Lovino let his gaze wander back to the men that sat around the lantern to see if they had noticed any movement from him. They continued their conversation. The Italian stood silently, careful not to attract the attention of the crew or wake Sanchez. The man sniffled, then sneezed, and Lovino let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. With careful steps, he bypassed the doctor and slunk his way inside Antonio's cabin, being met by the glow of a single candle and the labored breathing of a sleeping pirate captain.

Lovino watched with glazed hazel eyes as Antonio's chest rose and fell erratically with each breath he took. He wondered, briefly, what had happened in Tortuga, but pushed his concerns aside when the Spaniard coughed in his sleep, a groan of pain following.

"That bastard," Lovino whispered to himself, but his voice traveled throughout the room surprisingly well, and Antonio shifted ever so slightly. The Italian sucked in a breath as he stepped forward and knelt by the side of the bed, lest the wounded man awake and assume that the other was there to hurt him. "Antonio…?"

He watched as a sliver of a smile spread across the man's soot-stained cheeks. "Lovino. What are you… doing up so e-early?" Emerald eyes opened slightly. Lovino willed his blush away.

"No reason. I just… wanted to make sure you wouldn't die on us. We… they need you. You're their only hope, sadly." He couldn't stop himself from crying, though.

"Now… Lovi… don't cry over me…" Antonio breathed a laugh that caused him to grimace a moment later. "I-I'm not so weak. I'll recover… soon…" His eyes slid shut, then opened again as he looked into Lovino's hazel gaze. "I didn't think… you cared so much, though…"

Lovino tore his eyes away from the other when he felt another onslaught of tears forming. "I d-don't care!" He angrily scrubbed at his face as he forced himself to sit on the bed beside Antonio. "I just… d-don't want you to go! I don't belong here, you do, I'd rather it be me there instead of you!" The Italian's sobs were clear now and he could do nothing to stop them, aside from hiding his face carefully in the crevice of Antonio's neck and shoulder. Throughout the years of being with the Spaniard, the older man would hold Lovino's head in that same spot when he was being difficult or throwing a tantrum. It had become a shameless habit.

However, he felt this Antonio stiffen slightly under his touch and he pulled away, expecting a look of rejection, or maybe pain. He was surprised, though, to see green eyes shining with a pained smile, and a heaving chest.

"I was wondering… when you'd come around… _Italia._"

Lovino blinked in confusion. "Wha…. How did you know…?"

Antonio chuckled gently. "Well, between Arthur reminding me… back at the pub… I was also just… venturing a guess. I knew, of course. I'm not… that stupid."

The Italian felt himself flush in embarrassment, turning his gaze away once more. "You freaking idiot."

"Yes, well… I am… your idiot… am I not?" Lovino's crimson face darkened.

"S-shut up…"

Antonio shook his head and reached a hand up to stroke other's hair softly. "I will… I just… want you to know… that no matter what happens to me… I am still here for you… I have made you mine, you know…"

The younger man watched Antonio's actions carefully, and swallowed hard when his hand, still brushing his hair, became limp. "D-don't say such-"

"_Italia es fuerte_. _Son fuertes_… _Y vamos a ser fuertes juntos_…" Lovino shook his head as the other's hand fell into his lap and his voice stilled in his throat.

"_No_… _no_, Antonio, don't do this. _Non fare questo_. _Bastardo_!" Sobs racked his frame once more when he jumped forward and held Antonio's head wilted into his arms. "_Bastardo_…"

Lovino cried himself to sleep that night, his thoughts only of his Antonio, still waiting at home.

* * *

_First off, I want to let you guys know that I am SO FUCKING SORRY. Three months is not fair for me to leave you guys hanging! But I promise, between Otakon, moving, AFest, working, and another con coming up next weekend, my muse has simply gone... kaput. I really really hope you guys can forgive me for leaving you for so long!_

_Not that this chapter makes up for anything :'D I'm such a horrible person it's not even funny. Really, who can forgive someone who updates three months late, only to kill off everyone's favorite character?_

_I promise you guys that everything will be cleared up in the next and FINAL chapter of Wish Upon a Star! I will do my best to update next Thursday (hey, I'm still updating on Thursdays! 8D)._

_Also, for those of you who follow The Third Time, that proooobably won't be updated for a while. I will try to update it as soon as I can, but I plan on revamping and rewriting the entire thing sometime soon._

_Anyways, tata for now, my darlings!_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The next morning, Lovino awoke to tear-crusted eyes and the sun's rays blinding him through the curtains. He groaned and buried his head deeper into the crème-colored sheets, the warmth of the body next to him giving him a comfort he thought he hadn't felt in months.

Wait.

The Italian shot up from the bed, yelping loudly, and fell back onto the floor with a distinct thud. It took him a moment to reorient himself, and when he did, his eyes widened in a heart-pounding shock.

He was home.

Immaculately cream and white-colored furnishings, the curtains billowing in a slight breeze that wafted through the penthouse window, his alarm clock, showing an analog time of nine thirty-four in the morning. Lovino looked down at himself and noticed he was naked. He'd been naked the night he was transported back in time. His head was killing him. He'd been drinking… swallowing wine like a fish does water. His gaze tentatively flicked back to the bed, where the warm downy blankets fluffed themselves over another being. Lovino sat up, crawled across the mattress, and, hesitating only slightly, pulled the sheets back.

Antonio was asleep, snoring loudly and burrowing himself further into the warmth Lovino had pulled from him.

"Mmmm, Lovi," the Spaniard whined, "'S too early…"

The smaller man clamped a hand over his mouth as tears began to flow once again. He was home. Antonio was there, he was alive, he was being stupidly immature at an early hour of the morning. It was _Lovino's_ Antonio.

"Ch… ch-chigi…" Lovino choked back his sobs and leapt onto the man, smothering him in kisses. "_Bastardo! Ci__ò __che è sbagliato con te! Non posso credere. __Mi hai spaventato, __così tanto_…" He sniffed loudly, which apparently finally awoke the other.

"Lovi…?" Antonio yawned into one of the other's kisses, causing him to pull back if only for the rancid morning breath that emanated from the Spaniard's mouth. "_Mi amor,_ what's wrong?" He sat up and held the Italian close to him as he cried.

Lovino tried to stop himself, but only managed to rein his cries into coughs and sniffles. "Y-you were dying… T-that _bastardo_ England shot you… to get to me… I was so stupid! S-sanchez t-told me you'd be okay, but he was wrong too!" He leaned back to watch Spain's reaction and was shocked to see that the man's face was somewhat serious, if not still laden with sleep.

"Lovi… how did you know?" Antonio looked at the other with genuine curiosity and some disbelief.

"You jerk, you were there! You know what happened! I ended up on the beach, and I was stuck on your pirate ship for weeks! How else-"

"Lovi, you've been asleep."

The Italian's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Antonio sighed and leaned back against the headboard, the blankets pooling around his waist. Lovino bit back a gasp at the thick scar that adorned the other's chest, just towards the middle, away from his heart. The younger had always been aware of the wound, but now, with his knowledge of days past, he knew the origin of it.

"It's true, everything you say, that I was a pirate, and if you learned anything from apparently being on the _Vieques_ for weeks, then you know that Sanchez was my first mate. But Lovino, today is still Saturday. I got home around midnight last night and found you dead asleep. You were drinking again, I could tell." At that, Antonio smirked. "It's only been a few hours. You must have been dreaming."

Lovino froze, his jaw setting stiffly as he listened to the other. Dreaming? But it'd been so real! The blisters, the hard labor, Sanchez and the others… the feelings he had still felt for Antonio when _Capitan_ was in charge. He couldn't believe it!

"It… but it was real… I could feel everything!" he argued, clenching his fists in the blankets. He hardly realized he had shifted in his seating and was now situated in the other man's lap.

Antonio shrugged, smiling nonchalantly. "Maybe it was a lucid dream. Usually those are the kind that you can't distinguish from reality.

"Those are big words from you, bastardo. You scared me to death! You expect me to forgive and forget because of some stupid dream! No wonder nothing added up… Between your stupid ass and my… lack of knowledge…" At this he grumbled. "It was just information being filled in…" Lovino let his voice trail off as he stared at the scar on Antonio's chest. "But how about Sanchez? I didn't know anything about him!"

The Spaniard sighed once more, turning his gaze to the window; the sun was steadily rising in the sky. "You remember him, subconsciously. You met him when I took you in when you were still Little Romano." Green eyes glittered in remembrance. "He was like the grandfather… who left you… but he stayed."

Lovino was silent for a moment. This was all making too much sense, and it killed him that he couldn't refute it. It was practically the Italian's job to shoot down everything Antonio said! But now that the evidence was piled so high, there was no way he could reject any of it. It was all true.

"I still think the pirate you was hotter. At least he wasn't as stupid as your sorry ass."

There was another lapse in conversation as Antonio took in what the other had said. Lovino paused once more, though this time, he saw something else in the Spaniard's eyes.

"Really now, _querido_?" Green turned to sharp emerald in an instant, and Lovino found himself against the mattress, arms held tight above his head and legs spread, beneath the deadly look of Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. "Want to try me, _cabin boy_?"

Lovino let his fear fade quickly, and he grinned up at the other.

"Yes sir, _Capitan_."

* * *

Oh my GOD, WHAT IS THIS? IS THIS POSSIBLY THE LAST CHAPTER? ON THE SAME DAY! Holy crap I need a chill pill. I scared you there, didn't I? Saying it wouldn't be out 'til next week XD Pfffft. Even if it wasn't done already, I wouldn't have made you guys wait that long. That's like... blue-ball syndrome. And no one likes that.

But yeah. That's actually the end of it. SEE WHAT I MEANT WHEN EVERYTHING WOULD BE EXPLAINED? Turns out he's just a heavy sleeping drunk. Poor Lovi. XD I hope I explained it well enough though. Sorry it's so short, I didn't really know how else to go about it. That's it. Actually pretty anti-climactic XD

So yeah! I hope you guys enjoyed Wish Upon a Star, and I hope you'll continue to follow my stuffles in the future. The Third Time should be finished soon-ish, and I'm also working on a chaptered AU with some DenNor lovin'. Cause I like my gay Scandinavians, thank ye very much.

See you later, loves! -hugseveryone-


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